


One Step Forward and Two Steps Back

by TheFallingApple



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFallingApple/pseuds/TheFallingApple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has become so easy for Kate to imagine a relationship with Castle.  Post-ep for <i>Till Death Do Us Part</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Forward and Two Steps Back

**Author's Note:**

> This fic would probably not have gotten off the ground if it hadn’t been for a couple of fantastic writing sessions with **jewelsverne**. Thank you so much for the encouragement and suggestions. Thanks also to **callsign_buzz** for great feedback and questions.

*~*~*~*

Kate is not completely sure what she’s hoping for when she invites Castle up to her apartment after Kevin’s wedding, but she’s pretty sure she’s open to anything. Watching Kevin acting unabashedly sappy with his bride and Javier rekindling his relationship with Lanie had reminded her just _how much_ she wants that. And during such a momentous occasion, surrounded by some of the most important people in her world, it became so easy to picture it with Castle. It had felt natural to lean into his hand against her lower back and let herself glide nearer to him as they danced. And she thinks she’s smiled more in these few hours than she has in the last few months put together. 

The specter of ‘what if’ makes her fumble a bit opening her door, but whether it’s nerves or anticipation she can’t be sure. She’s talking too much as they move into the room but covers by pulling out a bottle of wine. She hands it to Castle so he can open it while she takes glasses out of the cabinet. He’s _right there_ crowded into the corner of the counter when she turns around, but she resists moving away as he pours, resists looking down when he toasts his ‘beautiful’ plus one. She also doesn’t try very hard to hide the flush on her cheeks as his eyes slide down her body and back to meet hers, his irises suddenly a deep, dark blue where only moments before they’d sparkled bright and clear.

There’s enough tension that the moment calls for one of those quippy retorts they regularly use to diffuse it. This time, though, she doesn’t want it diffused. She thinks maybe this time she’s ready for a thick, warm, syrupy fog of tension, possibly mixed with some lightning strikes of the electricity she’s felt crackling between them all night. She takes a deep breath, reaches for his wine, and puts both glasses on the counter behind her. When she turns back he’s eyeing her a little warily but with a hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes widen slightly as she leans into him and he stumbles back a step in surprise. Her momentum propels his hip into the counter behind him so that her lips literally fall into his. To steady herself, she palms either side of his jaw and steps forward. 

This time the kiss is slow and deep with all of the intensity she remembers from their first kiss almost a year earlier. She can feel him relaxing into it, falling back fully against the counter and opening his mouth to hers. It's liberating to finally be able to express everything she's been wanting, to loose the locks on the feelings she's been hiding for so long. Castle seems to be trying to hide his growing arousal, but the fact of it is such a turn-on that Kate presses the full length of her body against his.

He lets out a low groan. "God, Beckett.” 

She grins against his lips and loops her arms around his neck to provide enough leverage to shift her weight even more firmly against him. His fingers are warm and strong as they glide down her back and curve around her hips. He dips his head to press kisses along the column of her neck and down her collarbone as far as her dress will allow. The need to feel the warmth of his breath and fingers on her bare skin has her cursing her choice of clothing and makes her desperate to remove the inconvenient barrier. 

She should be surprised at her level of abandon, but this has been a long time coming and she’s tired of holding herself back from it. Her arms are still looped around his neck and she uses them to tug him gently away from the counter and toward her bedroom. They’re a few feet out of the kitchen when she feels him resisting. She pulls harder, only to have him stop completely, dropping his arms to rest at her hips.

“Beckett.” His voice is rough and slow with desire, but there’s reluctance in his tone.

“Present.” She bites her lip and tries to cover her sudden unease. “And a little confused. What’s the hold up?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She freezes, her breath catching in her throat. He backpedals. “That’s not…I just mean-”

She tries to pull away from him, humiliation making her words sharp. “I _thought_ we were on the same page, but apparently we’re not even reading the same book.” 

“We are,” he says quickly, ignoring the shake of her head and refusing to release his hold on her, “but I’m just not sure we should rush into it.”

“You’re not _sure_?” she asks, enunciating each word with disbelief. “I thought you wanted this. I thought-” 

“Kate…” He relaxes his grip in the face of her distress and she takes the opportunity to twist away from him. 

“No. Don’t say anything.”

He ignores her, his words insistent. “You _know_ I want this.”

“Oh really?” she says sarcastically, gesturing between them. “And yet…” 

His shoulders fall in defeat and he gives her a pleading look. “I just want you to be sure so that you don’t regret anything. I don’t want to take advantage-“

“Of what, Castle?” she snaps. “Do I look like I’m being taken advantage of? Do I look like I’m not sure?” 

“I just don’t want to go somewhere you’re not ready for.”

Rationally she knows that much of his caution is of her own making, but the lack of faith in her intention still hurts and the frustration makes her next words loud and angry. “Did you think that my throwing myself at you shows some sort of reluctance?” He looks like he’s going to protest, but her glare stops him. When she speaks again, her voice is hard as granite. “Did you really think that I value our relationship so little that I would throw it away without thinking about it?”

She can see his exasperation growing in response to hers. “Of course I don’t.”

“I’ve spent the last six months in therapy trying to get my head on straight so that when the right moment came along I’d be ready. If I’d known you were going to back off as soon as it was right in front of you I wouldn’t have bothered. I’m like the toy you thought you wanted until you opened it Christmas morning and decided it wasn’t what you expected.” The exchange has her straining to hold back a sob, because his actions have hit on her very real fear that he wouldn’t be willing to wait for her.

He seems to sense this and his voice softens. “How could you think I don’t want this? I _love_ you.” 

It infuriates her that he says it like she couldn’t possibly understand what he means. “I know, but dammit Rick, do you honestly think I don’t feel the same way?” She doesn’t wait for his response but instead turns and walks to her bedroom.

“Kate…wait.”

“Go home, Castle.” She has no real faith that he will but closes her door soundly so he knows he’s not welcome.

*~*~*~*~*

It takes Castle all of thirty seconds to absorb Beckett’s words after she slammed her door and left him standing, stunned, in the middle of her apartment. He’s been so sure all this time that he’s been doing what she needed, but seeing it from her perspective turns everything upside down and backwards. Staring at her moonlit ceiling for what seems like hours, he’s beginning to think that whatever consequences there will be for daring to enter the Beckett sanctum will pale in comparison to the prospect of having their fight continue to play on repeat in his mind. He levers himself off her couch and creeps across the apartment. He pauses outside the bedroom door, trying to determine which will piss her off more: knocking and waking her up or entering her room without permission. 

He settles on a hybrid, giving two quick knocks before turning the knob and cracking the door just enough to slide inside. There is just enough light to make out her form curled on her side away from him. “Beckett? You sleeping?”

“Seriously, Castle?” Her reply is muffled and hoarse. He wonders if she’s been crying. “I have a gun in my nightstand.” 

“I thought you kept it under your pillow.”

“Doesn’t matter where it is. I can still use it.” Through the darkness he hears an echo of the Beckett who dragged him to the precinct the first time they met and it feels like an opening.

“You know,” he starts, leaning back against the wall next to her door, “that was funnier when I used to think you meant it.”

“Don’t test me,” she says, but there’s no bite in her words.

The threat, however empty, pulls some of the tension from the air, but he can feel it returning moments later. He’s trying to put together the right words when she interrupts. 

“Well?”

“Huh?”

“You’re the one who took your life in your hands stepping in here. Were you planning to just watch me stare at the wall?”

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Abject humiliation tends to have that effect on me.”

He’s been with her long enough to know that her honesty is an apology of sorts, or at least an acknowledgment that she regrets some of what was said. “Kate, the last thing in the world I want is to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Really?”

He can see her shoulder shrug up and down. “I don’t think you’d ever set out to hurt me, but I didn’t expect you to just sit around indefinitely waiting for me to get my head on straight.” And there, he thinks, is one of the fears she wraps around herself like a blanket. It means something that she’s admitting to it.

“You should have known I would.” He chides her without meaning to and he can sense her bristling.

“Easy to say from where you sit.”

He sighs and runs his fingers across tired eyes before responding. “Do you think that you’re the only one who’s afraid?” he asks softly.

She doesn’t answer immediately and the silence is louder than their shouting match earlier. “Get over here, Castle.”

He pauses to process what she’s said and takes a few steps closer. He’s still trying to figure out what she means by ‘over here’ when she flips back the covers behind her.

Obviously he stands in bewildered silence for a moment too long because she huffs in frustration. “It’s the middle of the night and it’s cold. You really want to continue this while you’re standing across the room?”

“No, but-”

“If I have to ask you again, you’re going to lose every bit of your playboy street cred.”

The words are teasing, but her voice wavers self-consciously as if she’s unsure about the invitation. He quickly shucks off his dress shirt and pants, sliding under the covers in just his undershirt and boxers. Propping himself up on his elbow, he brushes the fingers of his free hand lightly over her shoulder and down to her hip. He’s about to pull back when she blindly reaches for his arm and slides her hand down his wrist until her fingers mesh with his. Tugging gently, she wraps his arm around her and rests their entwined hands against her chest. He doesn’t trust himself not to say the wrong thing so he just edges slightly closer to her and squeezes her hand.

She’s the one who breaks the silence, her voice soft and sad. “We were having such a good time.” 

“We were,” he agrees with a smile, even though the wedding feels like something from another age. “I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t want to be the kind of person whose intentions you always have to question. I’m tired of being the one holding us back.” She takes in and lets out a long breath. “I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” he protests.

“You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

He can’t really deny it. One of the things he’d realized while staring at her ceiling was that their fight was as much about his fears as hers, but he doesn’t want that to be another thing she blames herself for. “Beckett, that’s not-”

She cuts him off. “It’s what I’m afraid of too,” she says, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Dr. Burke would be so proud of me. He’s been trying to get me to admit all of this for months.”

“Would this Dr. Burke be connected to the therapy you mentioned earlier,” he asked lightly, “or do you have another man in your life I should be worried about?”

She laughs softly. With the night they’ve had, it’s a relief to hear it. “He’s the one I saw after the shooting.” She pauses, then adds, “I went back after the first case.”

He knows her well enough to know what it costs her to admit needing help, and to concede that he’d been right about her not being fine after that first case. “I’m glad you had someone to talk to.”

There’s a pause before she speaks again, and her words are soft, sleepy. “Me too.”

She snuggles a little tighter against him and squeezes their hands closer to her chest. Her breath gradually lengthens and deepens. Their clasped hands rise and fall together and he’s struck at how much more intimate this is than what had been interrupted earlier.

“Kate?”

“Hmm?”

“I just wanted you to know, I meant what I said.”

“Yeah?” She sounds pleased.

“I have a sense that wasn’t news to you.”

Her heartbeat skitters under his fingers. “Can we save that conversation for another time?” she asks hopefully.

“Of course.”

She lets out a relieved breath she probably didn’t realize she was holding. “Thanks. And Castle?” 

“Yeah?”

“For what it’s worth, I meant it too.” She squeezes his hand. “But it wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Do you think when you remember it you could edit out the cursing?”

He laughs, pulling her back against his chest and dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “Not a chance. That’s how I know it was really you and not an evil alien shape-shifter.” 

 

_fin_


End file.
